


I'm not ready for a handshake with death, no

by ICanShowYou



Category: Fall Out Boy, Peterick - Fandom
Genre: Death, M/M, Main Character Death, Yeah the trohley isnt that huge, mainly peterick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5741374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICanShowYou/pseuds/ICanShowYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe knew exactly what had happened, it was quite obvious. Pete elected to ignore the signs. Patrick was practically decaying in front of them. His soft smiles became faded into a mere smirk. He could never think right. Nothing was going his way, but all Pete saw was a brave blonde warrior with a David Bowie shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm not ready for a handshake with death, no

It had been 6 months since Patrick was diagnosed. As much as he tried, Pete could never get the image out of his head. His boyfriend hugging him tight and silently weeping “I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die Petey help me I d-don’t wa-wanna.” All he could do was just hold him and say that everything will be alright, but they both knew that was a lie. Today Patrick slugged into the living room after his routine appointment and plopped down right next to Pete. He grabbed his hand and squeezed tight.  
“Pete… They, they said I only had a month left in me. Maybe less.” The older boy turned a sickly shade of white. It couldn’t be! They said he was going to live a long time. Those fucking liars.   
“Trick, anything you need, I’ll give to you. I’d give you the sun in the sky if you wanted.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patrick got worse everyday. He started losing his blonde locks and his skin got extremely pale. He even began forgetting huge things. In this case his own birthday. Pete had spent all morning preparing the perfect breakfast for the love of his life, all his favorites. Three ‘fluffy as shit’ pancakes, a few strips of bacon and two sausages. A fried egg was still cooking for him. He proudly took in the breakfast, up to the hospital bed they had in their bedroom. His poor baby was quietly watching TV, his feet sticking out under the blanket. A faint smile grew on his face as Pete walked in.  
“This is for you, birthday boy!” Pete proclaimed.  
“It’s…. my birthday? A-Are you sure?”   
“Of course I’m sure! Do you know hold old you are Patrick?” Patrick looked dazed for a few moments.  
“No, I honestly don’t”  
“You’re 31 today. Beautiful day isn’t it?”  
“It is now, Petey.” It is now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
It was a cold night. The moonlight lit the room. No one expected anything out of the ordinary with Patrick. He seemed extremely comfortable next to Pete.   
“I really love you y’know. More than anything.” He whispered to Pete.   
“I love you too, Tricky.”  
“Just please, remember me as I was not as I am.”  
“I’ll always remember the good times my love. Forever and always.”   
Patrick began to fall asleep, his breathing steady and his heartbeat so pure. His eyelids fell heavy and collapsed upon themselves. He drifted into a deep slumber and Pete quickly followed. When Pete woke up in the morning, he did as he normally would, planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead. He slid out of bed and walked into the kitchen to serve some breakfast. Two bowls of “Frosted Flakes” and some hot coffee, nothing super special.

Pete dreaded having to wake Patrick but it was 12:00, he slept through breakfast, and he needed his medicine. He dragged his feet over to the bed.  
“Tricky? You should wake up now, you’ve nearly slept the whole day away!”  
Nothing.   
“Trick really let’s get up do you need help.”  
Silence.  
With a shaky hand, Pete put his fingers to Patrick’s neck in search of a pulse. No pure heartbeat, no noise. Just a lifeless body. He fell to his knees and looked up at Patrick. He was so young! Too young for this type of brutal torture. Pete’s muffled sobs were the only noise in the room. It must’ve been a good ten minutes before he pulled out his cell.  
“Joe? Fuck bro, it’s Patrick. Come quick, bring Andy.”  
Joe knew exactly what had happened, it was quite obvious. Pete elected to ignore the signs. Patrick was practically decaying in front of them. His soft smiles became faded into a mere smirk. He could never think right. Nothing was going his way, but all Pete saw was a brave blonde warrior with a David Bowie shirt. Andy and Joe let themselves in, walking up the stairs and into the bedroom where Pete was hovering over a dead Patrick. The ambulances came, the cops, and of course the media. Trying to snap stupid pictures of Patrick’s corpse to put in their failing magazines. Pete knew the rumors… “Fall Out Boy lead singer murdered by bandmate/boyfriend.” Fucking bullshit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
Pete tried with all his heart to put it behind him. He felt like crap for not holding Patrick enough. He felt Patrick died depressed because he was alone. Pete just wishes he didn’t have to be.   
But death is unavoidable. There’s no way around it.   
“It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right. I hope you had the time of your life.”


End file.
